


various untitled

by ketchupblood



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Angst, M/M, Smutlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-17
Updated: 2009-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-17 17:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ketchupblood/pseuds/ketchupblood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short collection of ficlets and drabbles from <a href="http://caelestin.livejournal.com/321409.html">the Tezuka/Fuji drabble meme</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	various untitled

**Prompt:** Mirror  
 **Words:** 100

Tezuka is, in three words, dedicated, hardworking, and passionate. He brings such life to the game that Fuji cannot help but hold his breath with every lob, every slam, every drop shot. There is never any doubt that he belongs on the court and that the court belongs to him if he even just steps on it.

When Fuji walks onto the court, he makes it his own. Like a magician twisting the props he mystifies with, Fuji borrows the court to make a spectacle and to play a game.

They are opposite, mirror images. Fuji's black to Tezuka's white.

  
 **Prompt:** Balls  
 **Words:** 100

Two hundred and fifty balls falling from the sky like rain. Fuji's hands itch for his camera to capture the moment. The little yellow balls cascading down and Tezuka, looking up not to see the balls falling towards him but seeing beyond them. Fuji imagines that Tezuka is seeing a player behind each of those balls, ready to be challenged and defeated. Already, a ball rests on Tezuka's racket. Tezuka is tense, ready to compete.

Fuji lifts his racket without tearing his eyes away and feels the thunk of a ball landing on it.

'I'm ready, Tezuka,' he whispered. 'Come.'

  
 **Prompt:** Glass Window  
 **Warning:** CLICHE  
 **Words:** 100

His papers lay in neat stacks on his desk. He should get to work on them, Tezuka thought, but he couldn't pull himself away from the window. Two stories below, Fuji leaned casually against the opposing wall, talking to a boy.

This was ridiculous, Tezuka knew. He had better things to do than watch Fuji's latest conquest. (No, he was being cruel, but he felt inconsiderate enough to ignore propriety in his own mind.) This thought nagged in the back of his head: Fuji used to stand there to look up at him.

Fuji looked up and smiled at him.

  
 **Prompt:** Blue  
 **Words:** 123

"Would you like to see Syuusuke's baby pictures, Tezuka-kun?"

"Yumi—" Fuji protested.

"Shush, Syuusuke." Yumiko grabbed an album off of the shelf and handed it to Tezuka.

"It's all right," Tezuka said with an eye on Fuji, "I don't really—"

"Please." Yumiko smiled and Tezuka saw the hint of steel that he often saw in Fuji's smile. "I insist."

Tezuka nodded and took the album—there was nothing else to do, no matter what Fuji wanted. Resistance would be futile. Fuji slumped into a chair, resigned to whatever humiliation he thought was awaiting him.

Tezuka set the book on the coffee table and Yumiko leaned forward, beaming. "This is when Syuusuke had his first piece of chocolate. Isn't he so cute?"

  
 **Prompt:** Chains  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Warning:** AU, 'torture'  
 **Words:** 149

Tezuka's breath grew rapid shallow as he tried to hold back his moans. Fuji let his mouth free of Tezuka's cock for long enough to ask, "now?"

Tezuka refused to respond. Fuji shrugged and took Tezuka in his mouth again. He was pleased to hear small gasp from his captive and moaned to show his pleasure. Tezuka's muscles tensed under Fuji's hands and an answering moan forced itself out of Tezuka's lips.

Fuji nearly choked and had to pull away, coughing desperately and still laughing. "Will you now tell me," he asked between chuckles, "the secrets of your state?"

True, it was hardly the most efficient interrogation technique, with a success rate of nearly 0%, but it was certainly the most fun. After all, there was no urgent need for this information and when a man as gorgeous as this came into his grasp, Fuji could hardly just refuse.

  
 **Prompt:** Merry-Go-Round  
 **Words:** 325

They had parted ways five years ago, after a long awaited victory and weeks spent in a training camp. Tezuka had left to pursue his dream and Fuji had stayed to find his.

They exchanged no emails. All Fuji heard of Tezuka was from Eiji who would occasionally bother to glean facts from Oishi or from Inui who didn't keep track like he used to, but still prided himself on the extent of his information network. Tezuka heard nothing of Fuji except from the occasional line in Oishi's emails or from one of Inui's un-asked-for reports on the status of tennis in what had once been his entire world.

They saw each other once a year, for the Japanese youth tennis tournaments that Tezuka returned for. Fuji always greeted him with a smile and a promise of a challenge, but when—if—they played one another his movements would be teasing and his promise would remain just that: a promise.

This year, Tezuka returned to the same tournament. Atobe smirked at him and informed him that their match would be later that week. Oishi fretted over his health, though he promised that the damage to his arm was mostly healed and that he trained with his right arm now anyway. Eiji welcomed him exuberantly. Echizen matched Atobe's smirk.

Fuji snapped a photo and asked him for an interview.

Isn't he playing, Tezuka asked.

No, was Fuji's answer. He no longer played.

Tezuka asked why.

Fuji shrugged, exasperating as he had always been.

Why, Tezuka demanded.

Fuji looked at him and told him that he knew why.

He didn't, Tezuka almost screamed, but he kept his voice down. Kept it civil. Kept it tame.

When Fuji finally answered, he was no longer smiling. Because, he said, he had been promised a match and Tezuka had not given it to him. Because he was tired of waiting and tired of playing on this merry-go-round of empty promises.


End file.
